fig LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 






UNITED STATES OP AMERICA, t 



p 



m. 




^ 



By GEO. E. SHIPMA>\ M. 1). 



CHICAGO: A 
\\ . G. Holmes, 122 W. Madison Street. 
NEW YORK: 
A. D. F. Randolph & Co., 770 Broadway "^Jo^ 

1872. ' SHT?£Y 



./&&-, 






The Library 
ot Congress 

WASHINGTON 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year of our Lord 1872, 

By GEORGE E. SHIPMAN, 

In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



W 




(CHICAGO-EVENING POST) 
V^£RINTER£> 




The following desultory thoughts originally ap- 
peared in the '-'Chicago Foundlings' Record." The 
repeated assurances, by friends,, that they were 
read with pleasure and profit, has led to their re- 
publication, with the hope that this pleasure and 
profit may be more widely diffused. 

Chicago, December i, 1872. 



CONTENTS. 



Page. 

I. Precious Promises 7 

II. Walking on the Water, . . . n 

III. Time to Reap, 15 

IV. The Hearing Ear. 21 

V. Responsibility, . . . . . -27 

VI. Suffering with Chrtst, . .31 

VII. Bought with a Price. . . . -39 

VIII. Faith and Fear. ..... 45 

IX. Self-Denial, . . . . . . 51 

X. Sane, or insane. 57 

XI. The Great Supper, . . . . -67 

XII. Mine, 73 

Chicago Foundlings 1 Home. . .81 



reaam xiromwe&. 



II Peter i : 4. 

"Exceeding great and precious promises.' ' 

The Bible is full of them — every page sparkles with one 
or more; they are adapted to every conceivable situation or 
condition — to king and peasant, and every degree between 
— from the most joyful to the ihe most sorrowful — from the 
most prosperous to the most afflicted ; for each and every 
one there is a promise, just such as is needed. 

And, exceeding great and precious as they are, they are 
kept, every one of them. " Heaven and earth shall pass 
away, but my words shall not pass away." No one can 
ever say they have failed: they are God's word, and con- 
firmed by God's oath; they can not fail. 

But one says : " I dare not appropriate them, I feel 
unworthy of God's favor;" but the promises are not made 
to those who are worthy ; the Saviour does not say '-'come 
unto me all ye who are worthy," but, "all ye who labor and 
are heavy laden." Xone had ever responded to the first 
call — many have to the last. "Whosoever will" — he is 
the person to whom the promises are made. See 
how Paul takes the promise made to Jacob and Joshua, 
and sends it broadcast to all believers, in all time to come : 
" Be content with such things as ye have, for the Lord hath 
said, I will never leave thee nor forsake thee." And if 
this promise may be appropriated by all, surely all. prom- 
ises may be by all who need them and receive them in 
^aith. 

But, what is this faith? Who has it ? Who knows any 
thing about it? Is it warm to-day and cold to-morrow; all 



io Precious Promises. 

embracing to-day, and drawn down to-morrow to nothing; 
believing all things to-day, and fearing all things to-mor- 
row ? No, surely, this was not the faith which Abraham 
had when he went to offer up Isaac ; not the faith that Moses 
had when he chose rather to suffer affliction with the people 
of God, than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season . 
not the faith that David had when he said, " I will say of 
the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in 
Him will I trust ;" not the faith that Isaiah had when he 
said, " The Lord God will help me, therefore shall I not 
be confounded ; therefore have I set my face like a flint 
and I know that I shall not be ashamed;" not the faith 
that Paul had every day from the hour when he said, " Lord, 
what wilt thou have me to do?" till he uttered his last 
triumphant cry, " I have finished my course, henceforth 
there is laid up for me a crown," etc. 

But does not God's word justly challenge belief, implicit, 
child-like faith ? A father says, " Johnny, I will bring you 
a rocking-horse tj-night;" and the child is just as sure of it 
as if he were already in possession. Thus we should be- 
lieve God — implicitly. His word is to be entirely rejected, or 
entirely received, and where entirely received, a doubt can 
no more gain a foothold than a tropical plant can in an 
iceberg ; a fear can no more find entrance in the heart 
occupied by faith, than the thief can when the good man of 
the house is around and watching. Hear grand old Nehe- 
miah when he says, " Should such a man as I flee ? " No 
place for discouragement in such a heart, which ever sings 
with David, " Hope thou in God, for I shall yet praise 
Him." Can but such a faith be had ? 



1 1. 



$j?alkinQ an the ffater. 



Matthew xiv: 14. 
"Hi iter" 

How far he walked we are not told — whether a yard or 
a rod. or twenty of them — nor does it matter. The main 
thing is, he walked, and on the water. And he did it 
because Christ bade him. What Christ bids his disciples 
do they can do. Water is not a good thing to walk on, and 
a stormy night is not a good time to walk on the water ; but 
if Christ bids us, we may venture, and not venture merely, 
but we may walk forth with the same assurance as if a solid 
rock were under our feet. 

Peter heard the voice which bade him " Come,*' but it is 
not said that the rest heard it at all. They might have 
thought him presumptuous — perhaps they said so — but Peter 
could not be mistaken in the voice, and was not. Daniel 
saw a vision not seen by the men who -were with him, and 
Saul of Tarsus heard words unheard by his companions ; so 
you may often hear a voice, if your ears are open to hear it, 
quite unheard by those about you, bidding you do things 
which it would be presumptuous for them to undertake, but 
in which you may succeed. 

But Peter's zvalk came to a sudden end. While he kept 
his eye on Jesus, and walked in the strength of Jesus, he 
walked well enough, and could have walked all night. 
"He saw the wind boisterous," we are told, but he would 
not have noticed this, had he still kept his eye on the Mas- 
ter. What diverted his attention? We are not told. Per- 
haps pride. He might have thought with contempt of the 
poor frightened ones in the boat, fearing for their very lives 



14 Walking on the Water. 

while he was walking on the water — such a stout-hearted 
man as he was ; but whatever it was, something opened the 
door for doubt, and doubts, though airy and unsubstantial 
enough in themselves, are heavy enough when they take 
possession of the soul, especially as every doubt brings a 
fear with it — sometimes more than one — and fear, too, 
makes the soul heavy, and sometimes the body; and, to 
make the case worse, as fears and doubts come in, faith goes 
out — they cannot live together, any more than fire and 
water — so bereft of what was keeping him up, and pos- 
sessed with what pushed him down, what could he do but 
sink ? 



PRAYER. 

Lord, what a change, within us, one short hour, 
Spent in thy presence will avail to make ! 
What heavy burdens from our bosoms take ! 

What parched grounds refresh as with a shower ! 

We kneel, and all around us seems to lower; 
We rise, and all, the distant and the near, 
Stands forth in sunny outline, brave and clear; 

We kneel, how weak ! we rise, how full of power ! 

Why, therefore, should we do ourselves the wrong, 

Or others — that we are not always strong. 

That we are ever overborne with care ; 
That we should ever weak or heartless be, 

Anxious or troubled — when with us is prayer, 

And joy, and strength, and courage are with Thee? 

— Trench, 



III. 



\in\e to Jjfotf^. 



Galatian s vi: 9. 

" In due season we shall reap" 

Suppose a farmer who had never planted — wheat, for in- 
stance — who had never heard of its being planted even, but 
undertook to raise a crop of wheat merely on the basis of 
God's faithfulness. " Here is the wheat," he says; "there 
is the soil ; and I am told that if the soil is properly pre- 
pared, and the seed properly sowed, I shall have a crop. 
Indeed, I have God's word for it, so I will try it. 1 ' Well, 
the seed is sown in August. In a few days it appears above 
the ground, and before long the farmer's land is covered 
with a luxuriant growth of a beautiful emerald green. 
"Oh! how good is God!" he exclaims. " How faithful— 
how true to his promises !" His heart rises in gratitude to 
Him every time he passes the field, or thinks of it ; but, 
after a while, the rains. and chilly winds of autumn come 
on. He begins to tremble for his wheat, but stays himself 
upon the promises, and assures himself of a speedy har- 
vest. But now the days grow shorter and shorter, the 
wheat has less of the sunshine, the nights get colder and 
colder, finally a frost comes. " Oh," says our farmer, " I 
don't understand this — things seem going from bad to 
worse — something wrong here — small chance of a har- 
vest," till finally he wakes up some morning, and his beau- 
tiful wheat has disappeared from his sight ; the whole 
ground is covered with snow; the winds are howling and 
raging about; the cold is bitter enough, and there are all 
his hopes, buried with his wheat, under three or four feet of 
snow. Returning from his field, he meets a f.-iend who 



1 8 Time to Reap. 

notices his downcast look and kindly asks him what's the 
matter. 

" Matter ! why matter enough ; all my time, all my labor, 
all my money spent for naught; that beautiful field of 
wheat is buried under the snow, and this bitter cold weath- 
er looks as if it might last forever. No chance of wheat 
there, neighbor, but that is not the worst of it. I thought 
that God's promises would never fail ; that his word was 
always sure ; . that seed-time and harvest would never 
cease. It all looks dark to me. I cannot doubt God's 
faithfulness, and yet here are the facts. I cannot reconcile 
them with his faithfulness to his promises, and I am just 
wretched enough." 

" Oh, if that's all," says the neighbor, who had tried 
wheat-growing, and had gone through the same experi- 
ence, "if that's all, I can help you out of your trouble. 
God is faithful, as you thought ; no doubt of that, and you 
are all right, too, so far. All the trouble is that you are 
looking for the harvest too soon. It won't come till next 
July. Let the winter storms rage their worst. The snow 
which you thought had buried your wheat will protect it 
from these storms. In due time 9 yox\. shall reap; not a 
doubt of it*, if you faint not." 

Is not this the experience of many a Christian — perhaps 
to a greater or less extent of every one ? He engages in 
some work to which he thinks he is called ; all goes well 
for a while ; the sun smiles upon the earth, and the earth 
smiles upon the laborer; nothing to do now but to rejoice 
in God's goodness, and praise him; but soon trouble 
creeps in here, and trouble there ; obstacles arise, friends 
prove faithless, enemies multiply, the path gets dark, he is 
not quite sure that he is in the right way after all ; he says 
to himself, " Surely, if I were in the right way, I shouldn't 
have all these troubles. Wisdom's ways are ways of pleas- 
antness, but I am in a constant turmoil; troubles without 
and troubles within, and there seems no end to it all , why 



Time to Reap. T9 

did I ever undertake this work ?" And all this because he 
is looking for his harvest too soon. " In due time" is, when 
he is to look for his harvest. What is to happen between 
seed-time and harvest he will only know from moment to 
moment; but this much is sure — the due time will come, 
and with it the harvest, and perhaps the richer and more 
abundant because it has been long looked for by eyes full 
of tears. Some seeds bring forth fruit in a few hours, 
some require a year, some a century ; of some we do not 
reap the harvest till eternity ; perhaps we shall be ail eter- 
nity reaping some harvests- -perennial harvests of joy. Can 
we not afford to wait a little to reap such harvests, especial- 
ly as the promise is — if we faint not ? 



GOD. 

Shake hands with earth and let your soul respect 

Her joys no farther, than her joys reflect 

Upon her Maker's glory. If thou swim 

In wealth, see Him in all ; see all in Him. 

Smk'st thou in want and is thy small cruse spent ? 

See Him in want, enjoy Him in content. 

Conceiv'st Him -lodged in cross or lost in pain? 

In prayer and patience find Him out again. — Quarles. 



IV. 



r yhe Rearing (jzar. 



Jonah ii: 10. 

"And the Lord spake unto the fish, and it vomited out yonah 
upon the dry land. 

I do not remember any instance in the Bible where ac- 
count is given of any animal which disobeyed the word of 
the Lord. Leaving out of the question the case of the 
serpent, which was taken possession of by the evil one to 
gain his purpose — and in truth it does not come into the 
question — all the brute creation seems to have been ready, 
at any time, to do the bidding of their Maker. All the ani- 
mals came, at the bidding of the Lord, to Adam to receive 
their names ; all that were bidden came to Noah to be taken 
into the ark — some of them, quite likely, from a long dis- 
tance. The ravens fed the prophet at God's bidding; the 
great fish, at the same bidding, was at the right place in the 
right time to swallow Jonah, and was ready again to re- 
lease him when told. so to do; a smaller fish, at a later date, 
went where he should find a piece of silver and then, at the 
appointed time and place, presented himself with it to min- 
ister to the Lord's necessities. They all heard the word 
and obeyed it. 

It is with the hearing of it that we are concerned just 
now. How does God communicate His will to the brute 
creation ? We do not know, and probably never shall in 
this world, but it is the bare fact that interests us, and the 
deduction, fully warranted by the fact, that if God can make 
His will known to the irrational, he can, beyond a doubt, 
make it known to the rational creation. 



24 The Hcaiing Ear. 

To settle abstract questions, nothing more is needed than 
the Bible. That I shall love the Lord my God with all my 
heart, and my neighbor as myself, is clearly enough revealed 
there, and I need no further light on these points, but just 
how to do it from day to day, and from moment to moment, 
is not at all made clear in the Bible, and I need further 
light. Where shall I get it ? 

Some light may be gained from the experience of others, 
and some from their advice, but both are imperfect, not 
always accessible, sometimes difficult of application. If 
shut up to this, I must often be in great doubt as to what I 
shall do, but having assumed above that God can make his 
will known to his rational creatures, may I not go a step 
further and say that he does ? That he always speaks to us 
and tells us, from moment to moment, just what to do? 

I am strengthened in the conviction that this is the case, 
from the fact that just such help is promised in the Bible. 
Thus we have, " This God is our God forever and ever; he 
will be our guide even unto death." — Ps. xlviii : 14. " Even 
there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold 
me." — Ps. exxxix : 10. "I will bring the blind by a way that 
they knew not. I will lead them in paths that they have 
not known." — Is. xlii : 16. "And thine ears shall hear a 
word behind thee saying, ' This is the way, walk ye in it.' " 
— Is. xxx : 21. And many others to the same purport, while 
the history of God's people, both in the Bible and out of it, 
lends further confirmation. 

But one says, " I never hear the voice of God ; it can't 
be that he speaks to me;" but there are many sounds within 
reach of our organs of hearing which we never hear. I 
knew a student in college who wanted to get up early in 
the morning : he procured an alarm clock, which called him 
the next morning at the appointed hour; instead of rising, 
however, he took another nap, and though the clock called 
eve'ry morning, he never heard a sound of it again, while 
his chum, who listened to the first call, never failed to hear 



TJic Hearing Ear. 25 

it every morning. Thus it is. doubtless, with the moral 
ear; it has become blunted by refusing to attend to the calls 
which we receive through it. Perhaps the moral ear is not 
so soon blunted as the physical, and it is well for us that it 
is not ; but it is only a question of time, and who knows 
just how many refusals to respond are needed to produce 
perfect and permanent moral deafness. 

Who knows, too, what voices we should hear from 
heaven, if our ears were always turned thitnerward with a 
full determination to do just what we were bidden ? If 
any man will do he shall know. Most men are listening 
for honors, or pleasures, or gains, from earth, with ears 
turned earthward, but who is listening every moment for 
directions from above ? He shall surely be lead in the way 
of peace and safety and final glory, though the path may 
be, nay, is, likely to be through " much tribulation." No 
doubts would beset the road of such a one, nor any fears ; 
no time would be lost in hesitation, which so often con- 
sumes the critical moment, but the road would be ever 
plain, ever onward, and ever upward, and sure to end 
where the pilgrim would hear, " Well done, good and 
faithful servant." 



Though faith and hope may oft be tried, 
I ask not, need not ought beside ; 
How safe, how calm, how satisfied 
The soul that clings to Thee ! 

Blest is my lot, whate'er befall ; 
What can disturb me, what appall, 
Whilst as my Rock, my Strength, my All, 
Saviour ! I cling to Thee ! 



V. 



§esjJOtt$ibility. 



Matthew xxv: 45. 

" Inasmuch as ye did it not:' 

I wonder why Bunyan did not call one of the lions 
which beset the path of Christian, Responsibility. He might 
well have called them both by that name. What oftener 
shuts up the way of apparent duty than the fear of taking 
responsibility ? One feels it to be a duty to engage in 
God's service, to come out from the world and be separate 
from it, to profess love to Christ and faith in him, but says : 
" Oh, I am afraid. Most Christians seem little more than 
Christians in name. I fear I shall not be any better, and 
shall dishonor the cause." Another, who has entered upon 
the Christian path, feels some duty pressed upon him — to 
take a class in a Sabbath school, or a Bible class, maybe; 
to warn that young man that his path is a downward one, 
to take part in some of the church meetings — be it what it 
may, great or small, do we not hear every day, " Oh, I 
can't. I am not qualified. I have not got the time. I 
have not got the means. It ought to be done, but I am not 
the man to do it. Ask A or B or C. I pray thee have me 
excused. I am afraid to take the responsibility!" 

Better, by far better, fear not to take it. If it is not your 
duty, you have no responsibility to meet ; but if it is your 
duty, no mortal but yourself can do it. It is your duty, not 
mine, and if you do not do it, it will never be done, and 
when you come to answer why it was not done, y.ou will be 
speechless, because God, who makes it your duty, promises 
to help you to do it, to give you all the strength and wis- 
dom and knowledge cud patience and faith — every thing, in 
tine, needful for the work. So when you refuse to do His 



3 o Responsibility . 

work, whatever it may be, you are not only disobedient but 
unbelieving. The language of your actions is : " Lord, 
thou hast bidden me to do this, and hast promised to help 
me do it, but I don't believe that thou wilt ; so I am afraid 
to take the responsibility." 

But while we have God's promise of help if we take up 
such responsibilities as devolve upon us in His providence, 
we have no promise if we refuse. We have abundant 
promise of help if we feed Christ when he is hungry, give 
him drink when he is thirsty, take him in when he is a 
stranger, clothe him when naked, visit him when sick, go 
to him when he is in prison, promises of present aid, all we 
need, and future rewards more than we can dream of, a 
crown of glory that fadeth not away, a seat with the King 
on his throne, a mansion that he has prepared for us, a 
right to the tree of life, an inheritance incorruptible, unde- 
nted, and that fadeth not away, while, for those who refuse, 
the sentence is : " Depart fro?n me" 

A distinction is made between faith and sight, and it is 
an essential difference. Yet faith must have eyes, and why 
is faith so blind that it can not see the advantages to be 
gained, here and hereafter, by a ready compliance with 
God's will ? Men are not wont to be blind when temporal 
advantages are offered them. You may search a long time 
before you will find one who will refuse a handsome estate, 
political preferment, honor, pleasure, any thing desirable, or 
apparently so, of this world's goods. Why are we all so 
blind to those more substantial and more enduring blessings 
which are within our reach ? * Those whose eyes are the 
most open, no doubt realize that their apprehensions fall far 
short of the reality ; but as for the most of men, are their 
eyes open at all ? How few can say of such matters, 
" Whereas I was blind, now I see." 

Which, now, should cause us the most fear — to take up 
responsibility, with God's help and favor, or to refuse it, and 
meet His displeasure ? 



VI. 



^u/fering with {^hrist 



II Timothy ii : 12. 

" If we suffer, we shall also reign with Him" 

I do not believe that any part of the Bible has become 
out of date, or that it ever will. What belonged to a walk 
with God in the time of Abel belongs to it now, and ever 
will belong to it, as long as the earth endures. What was 
necessary for Abraham is necessary for me, and will be for 
the last man born on this earth. 

Hence, I cannot see the reasonableness of the expectation 
of some Christians, that to follow Christ will involve no 
suffering. It is a subject that cannot be exhausted in the 
narrow space of one, or many, of these papers. A few 
brief hints must suffice. 

Christ says, " Go work to-day in my vineyard." Did 
they not suffer who worked XhzX day ? We hear them speak- 
ing of the heat and burden. No doubt there was some 
suffering with it. 

But perhaps the soul says, " Why, Lord ! I don't know 
any thing about working in a vineyard ?" The reply would 
be, " I know you do not; some one is there to teach you. 
Go !" Is there no suffering in learning; is it easy always 
and like child's play? They used to scottrge in those days 
when one did not learn readily. Some think that it is 
done in these days, but it is not pleasant, nay, it brings suf- 
fering. 

But again. Before we can work we have to be changed. 

The process resembles, in some respects, making a statue. 

Here is a block of marble, shapeless, perhaps misshapen 

It is to be made into a statue that shall ever speak its 

3 



34 Suffering with Christ. 

maker's praise. But what a deal of hammering, and cut- 
ting, and sawing, and filing, is first requisite. Had the 
marble feeling, would it not suffer? Does not the soul suffer 
under this process ? 

Then consider the requisitions of the gospel. We have 
but space for one. Christ says : 

" Whosoever he be of you that forsaketh not alt that he 
hath) cannot be my disciple" 

Do men forsake all that they have without suffering? 
Was it no suffering to those who were aroused from 
their beds in this city last October by that raging fire, to 
rush from their houses and leave every thing behind them, 
the fruits of years of toil, cherished mementos of lost ones, 
never to be replaced, costly works of art, rich furniture, 
every thing material that the heart of man holds dear? 
Some left richer treasures yet — wives, husbands, children. 
Was there no suffering that day ? 

But this is not all. The dearest thing to a man is him- 
self. But this he must forsake, too. He must deny him- 
self. A man may give up much, and comfort himself with 
what is left; nay, if he is a man, he may lose everything 
and yet comfort himself with himself. But to deny him- 
self, to renounce (and denounce) all his own strength and 
wisdom, and righteousness, and betake himself to Christ 
stripped of every thing, and this has to be done not once or 
twice, but all the time, every moment — that is suffering. 
How many idols have to be ferreted out and surrendered, 
perhaps sacrificed, dear as one's right arm or right eye. 
One's will has to be surrendered, lost in the will of 
another. So one thing goes after another, till the soul is 
fain to cry out in agony, "What, Lord ! and that, too?'* 
"Yes, all." " Spare this, Lord ! Is it not a little one?" 
"Ye must forsake all." And is there no suffering here? 
Reader, if you have not found it so you may well question 
whether you have ever forsaken all for Christ ; nay, the 



.Suffering with Christ. 35 

'query would not be unwarranted, " Have I ever forsaken 
any thing for him ?" 

But if any reader is yet unconvinced that a Christian 
must suffer, let him try this experiment. Let him give him- 
self up soul and body to some work for Christ, whether it 
be for the temporal or spiritual good of his fellow man. 
Let him enlist "for the war," and most assuredly he will 
be satisfied that we cannot follow the Captain of our salva- 
tion without suffering. He was made perfect "through 
sufferings," and so shall we be if we keep close to Him. 

It is true that we have not the rack and the dungeon, 
the stake and gallows, to fear — not just now, certainly, but 
may it not be on account of our supineness ? If the 
whole church of Christ should arise as one man, and 
make a furious onslaught upon the kingdom of Satan, 
would there be no blow struck back, would there be no 
suffering? Some of us even might have the joy and 
honor of dying for the Master? But Satan will never get 
out his gallows and stakes for passive Christians. Those 
who are going to heaven in a sleeping car he will never 
disturb, whatever else may happen to them. 

But when do we suffer with Christ ? 

"When we sufferer Him. " In the world ye shall have 
tribulation," Christ says, and his followers have verified 
the assertion. Though the present is not the day when life 
and liberty are at stake, yet the Prince of this world knows 
how to reach those who refuse allegiance to Him. The 
enmity between the church and the world is not dead. It 
has only assumed another form, and a close walk with God 
does not open the way to the pleasures or honors or riches 
of this world. One who>follows his convictions often finds 
that he has to go in the very face of his worldly interest 
and endure much suffering. 

When we suffer in doing his work, we suffer with him, 
whether the suffering comes from our own hearts or the 



36 Sicffering with Christ. 

nature of the work, or outside resistance. When we set 
to work for Christ we soon begin to learn two things, that 
w e have much which we would be better off without, and 
that we lack many things which we really need. To gain 
these and divest ourselves of those, produces suffering. 
Every work, too, brings much labor and perplexity, many 
embarrassments and hindrances, which are causes of suffer- 
ing, and then the opposition of those without, their sneers 
and objections and insinuations cannot always be received 
without suffering. 

But again : We suffer with Christ, when we suffer in 
submission to His will. We cannot get through this world 
without suffering in one shape or other, but, be the suffering 
what it may, it is our privilege to say, " Thy will be done," 
and then we suffer with Christ. 

Finally, we suffer with Christ when we suffer with His 
people. " In a*ll their afflictions He was afflicted." That 
is just as true of the church at the present day as it was of 
the church in the wilderness. Every true Christian is a 
member of the body of Christ, and we are told that if one 
member suffers all the members suffer with it ; so when 
we sympathize with the suffering disciples we suffer with 
Christ. St. Paul knew all about this when he wrote to 
the Colossians (1 : 24): " Who now rejoice in my sufferings 
for you, and fill up that which is behind of the afflictions 
of Christ in my flesh, for his body's sake, which is the 
church. " 

" We shall also reign -with Him." Were you liable to be 
called at any moment to share Victoria's throne or Kaiser 
William's, would you not be a marked man ? You could 
not walk abroad but every one would say, " That is he I 
He is looking every moment to be called to share the great- 
est throne in the world." But if you suffer with Christ, 
you are likely to be called at any moment to reign with the 
King of kings. Just what that means no mortal knows, and 



Suffering with Christ 37 

if he did, he could not tell it to us. St. Paul was shown 
it, but could not tell it when he came back. But we shall 
know it soon, we who suffer with Him — to-day maybe, or 
to-morrow. What a halo of glory does the thought throw 
about our " light affliction" which is but for a moment ! A 
few years' suffering, and an eternity of reigning, with 
Christ! 

But is the converse of our proposition true ? If we do 
not suffer with Christ, shall we fail to reign with Him? 
Truly, a solemn question; but we must leave it to our 
readers. 



THE MYSTERY OF CHASTISEMENT. 

" We glory also in tribulations." — Romans v : 3. 

Within this leaf, to every eye 
So little worth, doth hidden lie 
Most rare and subtle fragrancy : 

Wouldst thou its secret strength unbind ? 
Crush it, and thou shalt perfume find 
Sweet as Arabia's spicy wind. 

In this dull stone, so poor and bare 
Of shape or lustre, patient care 
Will find for thee a jewel rare ; 

But first, must skillful hand essay, 
With file and flint, to clear away 
The film that hides its fire from day. 

This leaf! this stone! it is thy heart; 
It must be crushed by pain and smart, 
It must be cleansed by sorrow's art — 

Ere it will yield a fragrance sweet, 
Ere it will shine, a jewel meet 
To lay before thy dear Lord's feet. 

— S. IVilier force. 



VII. 



<§?0ff#/jr/ with u 0rice. 



I Corinthians vi : 20. 

" Ye are botcght with a price.''' 

I am bought, therefore, 

/ never was my own — had I ever had full control and 
proprietorship of myself, who could have bought me or 
how could I have been sold ? The very expression im- 
plies that I was in the power of another. Besides, how 
can a man alienate himself? How can he take a price for 
himself? But again: 

I am not my own nozv — I have been bought — the price 
has been paid— the property transferred. To Him who 
bought me I belong in every part, for He bought every 
part of me. To Him I belong every moment, for He 
bought all my time. For His pleasure and His glory every 
power and faculty should be employed every moment. 

Hence, nothing that I have is mine. I call it mine to 
distinguish it from yours ; but it is not mine, it is my 
Lord's. Whatever I earn, I earn for Him. Whatever I 
accumulate, I accumulate for Him. When He calls for it 
I have no more right to say, " Not just now," or " Not so 
much," than I should have if a friend left money in my 
safe-keeping and should call for a part or all of it whenever 
he saw fit. I have right to nothing but to hold it at His 
bidding. 

Hence again, I have no choice what I shall do or what 
I shall not do, when my Lord's will is made clear to me. 
When He says, " Go work to-day in my vineyard," it is 
not for me to say, " I would rather not to-day," or, " I 
would rather work to-morrow," or " I would rather work 



42 Bought with a Price. 

somewhere else than in the vineyard." No. It is for Him 
who bought me, to say when, where, and what, and for me 
to say, " Here I am." And His will will be made known 
to me from moment to moment if I have an attentive 
ear and a willing mmd. Moreover, 

I never shall be my own — the price He paid for me would 
never have been paid for a divided or a temporary posses- 
sion. He bought me to be wholly His, and His forever ; He 
will not part from me, nor let me part from Him. No one 
can take me out of His hand, and He declares that no one 
shall. Whatever changes befall me in time or eternity, 
nothing shall ever touch this relation. If I can say to-day, 
"I am my Beloved's, and my Beloved is mine," I can 
say it to-morrow, and every other to-morrow, as long as He 
lives who bought me. 

But one may ask, "Is not injustice done by buying 
me?" No. For I was bought from slavery into liberty — 
from death to life, from irretrievable ruin to joy unspeak- 
able and full of glory. I was sick, and He cured me; 
blind, and He gave me sight; naked, and He clothed me; 
utterly defiled andf He cleansed me. I was bought into the 
family of the great King, to be a joint heir with His Son, 
and shall reign with Him forever when my transient ser- 
. vice here is ended. Since I never had and never could 
have control and proprietorship of myself, it is well for 
me that I was bought by such a Master. 

Especially so, when I consider that the fact that I was 
thus bought, assures me a supply for all my necessities in 
this life, as well as in that to come. Men are not wont to 
purchase property, and then let it go to waste when it can 
be prevented; but, w r hatever men may do He never will; 
He has every thing in abundance, and has promised to 
supply all my needs. He bids me cast all my care upon 
Him for He careth for me ; He bids me call upon Him in the 
day of trouble ; He bids me ask for whatever I need, chat 



Bought with a Price. 43 

my joy may be full; He says all things are mine. Surely 
no injustice was done by buying me into such a relation as 
this. 

Now, some one may say, " There is no such reality as 
this, it is all a figure. " Of course it is, but figures ex- 
press realities. St. Paul's figures certainly do. He lived at 
an age, as did those who first read his epistles, when men 
were really bought, and, when a man bought another man 
he bought the whole man — every thing in or pertaining to 
him. He bought the entire control, possession, and dis- 
posal of him. His very life was at the disposal of him 
who bought him, and he could be nailed to a cross or flung 
as food to the fishes, at any moment, at the will of his pur- 
chaser. Now, with all these facts in his mind, and the 
minds of his early readers, when St. Paul said, " Ye are 
bought with a price," did he mean "You are your own 
masters. It is for you to say how much you will give 
Christ ; what service you will render Him ; what you will 
deny yourself for His sake ; what portion of your worldly 
goods you will give Him ? " No. He meant to say, " If 
you are Christ's at all, you are all Christ's — wholly 
Christ's — entirely Christ's, in the fullest sense of the 
words." If any doubt about this matter arises we have 
only to look at the life of St. Paul, from the first moment 
when the Lord met him on the road to Damascus, till he 
bowed his head to receive the stroke which should usher 
him into a new life of glory. The first words of his 
Christian life were, " Lord, what wilt thou have me to 
do ? " And these were doubtless the language of his 
heart, if not of his lips, every moment till the last. No 
other becomes the heart or lips of one who is bought with 
a price. 

How does this fact, that I am thus bought, simplify 
many questions, which arise ever and anon, and puzzle me 
sorely? "Shall I heap up earthly treasures?" He who 



44 Bought with a Price. 

bought me says, " Lay not up for yourselves treasures on 
earth. " " Shall I join in the race after earthly honors ? " 
He says, " How can ye believe, that receive honor one of 
another ? " " Shall I follow the world in its pursuit of 
pleasure? " He says, " Seek ye first the kingdom of God 
and his righteousness. " Must I give this to my Master ? 
It is mine only to use or hold for him; what He wants I 
must give him, and when He wants it. 

There is a project on foot of revising the Bible — to 
modernize its language — but does not our religion need 
revising? Certain scholars were once engaged in trans- 
lating the Bible, when one of them threw down his pen 
and exclaimed, " Either this is not God's word or we are 
not Christians." Might not this exclamation be truly 
made in our day, by many a professed disciple of Jesus 
Christ ? And should we not all lead different lives if we 
lived every day and every moment under the pressure of 
this truth, 

YE ARE BOUGHT WITH A PRICE? 



VIII. 



Mmth mid Jfmr. 



^ 



Mark v: 36. 

" Be not afraid; only believe!" 

No two things can be more antagonistic than Fear and 
Fahh ; they can no more dwell together than light and 
darkness; they are as unlike each other as the brightest 
.midday and the darkest midnight; they are sworn foes, 
and fight for the possession of every soul, till one or the 
other is cast out forever. Some foes can be reconciled and 
dwell together, but these, never. 

Fear contracts the soul, Faith expands it ; Fear trembles, 
Faith is as firm as a rock; Fear considers self only, Faith 
thinks of others ; Fear is for time, Faith for eternity ; Fear 
sees nothing but what is in sight, Faith sees things which 
are invisible ; Fear has torment, Faith brings perfect peace ; 
Fear dreads danger, Faith rejoices in tribulation. 

Fear cries, " Who will show us any good? " Faith says, 
" My God will supply all your needs." Fear calls on the 
rocks and mountains for a hiding place; Faith says to 
God, "Thoti art my hiding place." Fear says, "I am slow 
of speech and of a slow tongue;" Faith says, "I can do 
all things through Christ, who strengtheneth me. " Fear 
says, " Send by the hand of whom thou wilt send; " Faith 
says, " Here I am, send me." Fear says, "All these 
things are against me:" Faith says, " Though He slay 
me, yet will I trust in Him." Fear says, " Give me the 
portion of goods that falleth to me ; " Faith says, "Hence- 
forth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness." 
Fear says, "We be not able to go up against the people, 
for they are stronger than we; " Faith says, "Let us go 



48 Faith and Fear. 

up at once and possess it, for we are well able to overcome 
it." Fear says, " I shall perish one day by the hand of 
Saul ; " Faith says, " The Lord is my light and my salva- 
tion ; whom shall I fear ? the Lord is the strength of my 
life, of whom shall I be afraid ? " Fear says, "There is a 
lion in the way; " Faith says, " When he arose against 
me I caught him by the beard and slew him. " Fear says, 
"O, wretched man that I am; who shall deliver me from 
the body of this death?" Faith says "There is now 
no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus." Fear 
says, "I find a law, that, when I would do good, evil is 
present with me;" Faith says, "The law of the spirit of* 
life in Christ Jesus hath made me free from the law of sin 
and death. " Fear flees when no man pursueth. Faith 
says, " Shall such* a man as I flee?" Fear says, "He 
saved others; himself He cannot save." Faith says, "Lord, 
remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom ! " Fear- 
says, "Cursed be the day wherein I was born ; " Faith 
says, "He hath done all things well." 

With Fear dwell doubts, suspicions, strifes, contentions. 
With Faith abide hope and love; peace, like a river; joy 
unspeakable and full of glory. Fear dishonors God; 
Faith pleases him. Fear drives us from God; Faith unites 
us to Him. Fear has no resting place, but is driven hither 
and thither; Faith rests on the Rock of Ages, having Hope 
as an anchor to the soul, both sure and steadfast. Fear sep- 
arates us from every body ; Faith makes us one with all 
whom God loves. Fear disorganizes, hence accomplishes 
nothing of value, but "the time would fail me to tell of those 
who, through Faith, subdued kingdoms, wrought righteous- 
ness, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, 
quenched the violence of fire, escaped the edge of the 
sword, out of weakness were made strong, waxed valiant 
iii fight, turned to flight the armies of the aliens ; women 
received their dead raised to life again, and others were 
tortured, not accepting deliverance, that they might obtain, 



Faith and Fear. 49 

a better resurrection ; and others had trials of cruel mock- 
ings, and scourgings, yea, moreover of bonds and impris- 
onments, they were stoned, they were sawn asunder, were 
tempted, were slain with the sword; they wandered about 
in sheepskins and goatskins, being destitute, afflicted, tor- 
mented, 

OF WHOM THE WORLD WAS NOT WORTHY." 

In the most of men, perhaps in a considerable share of 
really good men, Fear largely predominates ; some are all 
their lives subject to bondage; in others, Fear gains the 
mastery but occasionally, while, in a few, Faith holds such 
a sway that Fear is unknown to them. Such are not always 
known on the page of history; they are not always great 
leaders and law-givers as was Moses ; great poets and war- 
riors, as was David; great teachers and preachers, as was 
St. Paul. Many of them do nothing to attract the attention 
of the world, or to gain a place in its perishable roll of fame, 
but they are the truly great; their record is on high, and 
from that roll of fame, which shall outlive all the monu- 
ments of earthly greatness, their names shall stand forth with 
imperishable glory. Nor is all the reward to such a soul 
a future reward ; it is gathered every day, every moment. 
However, the life of such a one may be attended with 
care, and trouble, and burdens even, it is blessed with a 
secret peace and joy that the world knows not of, and is 
aptly described by the familiar words of the poet : 

"As some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form, 
Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm, 
Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, 
Eternal sunshine settles on its head." 



IX. 



$e1f= genial 



Matthew xvi : 24. 

"Let him deny himself" 

It seems to me that the Bible is distinguished, above all 
other books, for its paradoxes, or apparent contradictions, 
and, if any one thing in it can be more paradoxical than 
another, it is the terms of admission to the Christian life. 
At one time we are told that we have only to look — to go — 
to receive — to eat the bread of life, and never hunger — to 
drink of the water of life and never thirst, and all without 
money and without price. One would think, from such 
expressions, that nothing was easier than entering upon 
eternal life, and that the Christian walk was a perpetual 
holiday. But at another time we hear quite a different 
story; such is that on which we are now musing. " If any 
man will come after me, let him deny himself." "Whoso- 
ever will" may "come," and welcome, but he must first 
" deny himself." 

Early impressions are powerful and abiding, and it is not 
at all easy to change or throw them off; self-denial, it 
seems to me, was the very first thing I heard of — it cer- 
tainly was one of the earliest subjects presented for my 
consideration, and it consisted in abstaining from this or 
that good thing, for fear of over-indulgence ; or, regarding 
the comfort and convenience of others, before my own. 
In brief, temperance and politeness made up the sum and 
substance of the self-denial then known to me, and my 
observation of Christian people has led me to think that I 
was by no means singular in my early impressions. 

But is this all the self-denial the soul needs in presenting 
itself to Christ ? Let us see. 



5 4 Self- Denial 

It comes to Him as to a king. Other lords have had 
dominion over it ; to these it must forswear its allegiance 
when it swears allegiance to the King of kings ; allegiance 
to many of these may be thrown off with comparative ease, 
but one Lord — the most imperious of all — holds his domin- 
ion with a grasp almost as tenacious as death itself — his 
name is SELF. It is true that we never have control of 
ourselves, but we live and die, fancying that we have, and 
however vain the fancy, it is one with which we part most 
reluctantly. But there is no compromise. If we take the oath 
of allegiance to King Jesus, we must renounce allegiance 
to king self; or, in other words, we must deny ourselves. 

But again : 

It comes to Him as to a captain, and enlists for the war, 
for life. It had before been fighting against Him under 
various leaders, but always in the interest of self. It had 
been fighting — as it supposed — what, and when and where 
it chose to fight, but it has now no more choice. It has 
enlisted under a new leader, and must renounce and deny 
all others — self included. 

More than this : 

It needs righteousness. It has, indeed, a sort of right- 
eousness, one which it has flaunted for many a year — in 
which it has trusted and delighted. Others saw that this 
righteousness was nought but filthy rags — an utter abomi- 
nation, but not so the soul, before it comes to Christ; it 
wraps itself in them and hugs them with huge delight ; so 
intimate is the connection between the soul and these filthy 
rags, that they not only cover the exterior, but twine about 
every innermost fibre. But when the soul comes to Christ, 
to receive His robes of righteousness, these rags must be 
put off — torn off — cut off — got off in some way — but off they 
must come, every shred and tatter, and that the soul finds 
self-denial — it denies its own righteousness. 

It comes to Christ for strength. For many years, the 



Self- Denial. 55 

soul never dreamed that it was weak, that it needed any 
strength but its own; but its eyes are open now, and it sees 
how helpless it is — utterly helpless to do any good, or de- 
fend itself against any evil. It needs the strength of 
another, but, to obtain it, it must renounce its own fancied 
strength, and thus again deny itself. But it must also 

Come to Him for Wisdom. It thought itself wise enough 
once, and sought no wisdom but that which earth furnished ; 
but this wisdom does not answer in its new life, while, as 
in other cases, the new cannot be had without giving up 
the old, and this, again, is denying itself. 

Then there are projects of self-aggrandizement, of adding 
to the wealth, or reputation, or honor of self; these must 
all be renounced; self is not to be honored, but God; the 
honor that cometh from man is not to be sought, but that 
that cometh from God; the riches of earth are not to be 
sought, but treasures which can be laid up in Heaven. 

In fine, it is but the same truth that we find expressed 
elsewhere : " Whosoever forsaketh not all that he hath, he 
cannot be my disciple." That is self-denial, to forsake all 
— all of self — no partial work will do ; it must be radical 
and entire. 

If it be said that these views are extreme, and, if insisted 
on, would bear heavily on the Church even, it is more im- 
portant to know if they are true. The Church must con- 
form to the word of God, and not the word of God to the 
Church. 



X. 



3ane, oi[ Jtfnsmw. 



Acts xxvi : 24. 

"Pan/, thou art beside tJiyself. 

Returning home late one night, and very weary, I sat 
down to read a word or two in the Book of books. I 
chanced to open to Paul's defence before Agrippa, and, as 
I read the words of Festus, the letters seemed to disappear; 
for a moment, Agrippa and Bernice and Festus, with all the 
attendants of high and low degree, stood before me, and 
then, in place of Festus' audience chamber, there came to 
view avast amphitheatre ; rows of eager spectators were seen, 
one above the other, till they were lost in the distance, as 
if all past, present and future generations were here repre- 
sented. The judge I could not discern distinctly. Near 
Paul stood his Advocate, the same who stood by him when 
he appeared before Nero the second time, "One among ten 
thousand, and altogether lovely." The Accuser of the 
brethren was also there, to make good the charge against 
Paul. Though evidently in years, he did not appear at all 
infirm, and, indeed, his address and bearing were irreproach- 
able, and not at all indicating the wickedness of his heart. 

The trial was to be by jury (for it was held in the Nine- 
teenth century, and not in the days of Festus), and when the 
jury was to be empaneled, to my great amazement, I heard 
my name called. I presented myself at the bar, and, having 
answered the usual questions as to name, occupation, etc., 
Paul asked, " Have you ever done or suffered anything for 
the Master?" I replied, "Yes." He said, "What?' I 
was just about to tell, when, suddenly, I got a view of what 
He had done and suffered for me, as I never had seen them 
before ; then I looked at what I had done and suffered for 



60 Sane, or Insane. 

Him, and it looked so small — in fact, it dwindled away to 
nothing, and while I was trying to hide my shame, and de- 
cide what to say, I was bidden to stand aside, which I did 
with many tears. My grief* was so bitter that for a long 
time I paid no attention to the doings of the court, and be- 
fore I could control myself enough to see what was going 
on, the jury was complete — and such a jury ! No doubt 
Paul put the same question to them that he did to me, 
t' What have you done and suffered for the Master?" It 
was clear enough that they had suffered for Him ; the scars 
upon them testified to the wounds which they had received 
in following Him; but love, joy and peace beamed from 
every face, and every head wore a starry crown — kings and 
priests every one. 

The jury having been empaneled, the case was opened 
by the Accuser of the brethren. He said — and I can only 
give the substance of his address — that the case was not a 
new one; that it had been before the public mind for 
centuries; that it had been decided thousands of times, 
for and against the respondent; that the case was one 
of the greatest magnitude ; it did not concern the respon- 
dent merely; whether he was mad or not, was not in itself 
considered a matter of much importance, and the public 
would long ago have allowed the matter to rest, had 
not the question been one which touched the dearest inter- 
ests of every mortal. This would be more apparent, he 
said, on stating the facts of the case. 

The respondent, he proceeded to say, had been a man of 
high standing in the Church and State; of unblemished 
moral character; master of all the learning of the day; en- 
joying the full confidence of his nation ; his learning and 
eloquence, his position and influence gave him reason to 
look forward with assurance to fame and wealth, and all the 
good known to man. Now, a man in his reason does not 
forsake all these present and prospective advantages for 



Sane, or /wane. 61 

nothing, and, it has always been the custom of well-in- 
formed people, to set a man down as crazy, who gave up 
everything for absolutely nothing. But as we have seen 
what this man had to give up, let us see how he came to 
give it up. and what he got in return. Journeying one day 
to Damascus, with power and authority from the Jewish na- 
tion, to punish an insignificant sect, which was turning the 
world up-side down, he avers that, at mid-day, as he ap- 
proached the city, he saw a light from heaven, above the 
brightness of the sun, and heard a voice which he took to 
be the voice of Jesus, whom, he says, he also saw. To this 
Jesus, Paul then and there gave himself with a completeness 
and entireness quite without a parallel ; his position in his 
nation; his prospects of advancement; the high esteem in 
which he was held both by Church and State; his wealth; 
his ease; his comfort; in fine, everything was given up, and 
for Avhat ? to be a strolling preacher for some thirty years 
or more ; without friend, or home, or station ; to be, as he 
says he was, " as the filth of the world and the offscouring of 
all things ;" despised by everybody, scourged, stoned, impris- 
oned and finally beheaded. 

Now, he proceeded, as before observed, if the matter 
concerned the prisoner only, it would be of little moment 
whether he were- sane or insane, but it affects every- 
thing that is dear on earth. If honor, riches, pleasure, ease, 
comfort, were the contemptible things Paul declares them 
to be, counted as dung, he says, then the value of all 
earthly possessions becomes null at once, and all those who 
set their hearts on them are mad instead of Paul. Hence, 
the question really is, Is Paul mad or are we ? 

The Apostle was now told that he might speak for himself. 
He said that many words were not needed. What his op- 
ponent had said — as far as the facts were concerned — was 
true; his inference was false, as he would show. He would 
ask him now to set forth those things which he had, or 



62 Sane, or Insane, 

might have had, but for the change in his course of life, 
made at the bidding of his Lord. 

A vast panorama then passed before us. Things imma- 
terial and intangible, the Accuser had the faculty of repre- 
senting in sensible form, so we saw all Paul's learning 
and the pleasure he derived from it, and his powers of reason- 
ing and persuasion. Vast crowds appeared to whom he 
was speaking; at one time of common people, at another, 
of the magnates of the day; but they all vied with one 
another in applauding the orator. Then we saw him in 
places of power and trust, and saw the pleasure which he 
felt in being thus elevated ; then vast estates passed before 
us; beautiful mansions, hosts of obsequious friends and 
servants, stores of gold and silver and delights of all sorts. 
I must own that they all looked attractive beyond what I sup- 
posed possible,' but it was the work of a great artist. As 
each different scene came to view, he told what was repre- 
sented, and his only failure was the last. " Here," said he, 
" comes to view the immortal renown which would have 
followed this life of glory; " but I could see nothing — there 
was something like a mist or fog, and I thought that perhaps 
the " immortal renown " would develop itself out of that. 
But while I was looking for it, the whole scene vanished 
from sight. Brilliant and captivating as it was, it was tran- 
sient ; even the Accuser could not conceal that. 

Now, said Paul, let my opponent show what happened to 
me after I gave up all for Christ ; and there came a series 
of views as repulsive and distressing as could be imagined; 
the rage and fury of his old friends took visible form, and 
the bitter hatred with which they followed him to the last ; 
then we saw the infirmities, the reproaches, the necessities, 
the persecutions which he bore for Christ's sake; the ston- 
ings and scourgings, the watchings and fastings, the perils 
by land and perils by sea, and, finally, we saw his pro- 
cession as he went to the block, amid the jeers and scoffs of 



Sane, or Insane. 63 

exulting enemies ; dying, as his Master did, the death of a 
malefactor. It was an appalling sight, and enough to daunt 
the bravest heart. " These," said the adversary, " are what 
he got for what he gave up. Can any one doubt now 
whether he was insane or not?" To which the Apostle 
rejoined: "The sufferings of this present time are not 
worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be re- 
vealed in us," and now let me be permitted to show what 
were the real returns for the little which I gave up for Him 
who loved me and gave himself for me ; and first in his 
panorama came Peace, represented by a mighty river, broad, 
deep and interminable ; then Joy, appearing as a glory too 
bright to gaze upon ; then Love to God and man, which ever 
filled his heart, represented by a flame of vast dimensions ; 
then the presence of Christ which never left him from first 
to last — we saw him by Paul's side all through his life, ac- 
companying him when he went to lay down his head on the 
block; that procession did not seem now as it did then > 
all the attendants of shame and sorrow which marked it 
before were present now, but they seemed as nothing. 
Paul and Jesus went hand-in-hand. Paul was now to 
know the last of the fellowship of Jesus' sufferings which 
he was ever to know, and to know which, he had counted 
all as loss; we saw the joy that was in his heart; we heard 
him say, " Neither count I my life dear unto myself, so that 
I might finish my course with joy;" arid as he reached the 
block, we heard his exultant voice above all the uproar of 
the rabble, " I am now ready to be offered, and the time of 
my departure is at hand;" we saw the axe fall, and then 
another procession was seen. Paul and Jesus were still 
hand-in-hand; before, behind, above, below, all about them 
were myriads of bright spirits, singing songs of praise and 
triumph— the souls of those whom Paul had led to Christ, 
or whom he had animated and inspired by his faith and love 
and courage, and with these was all the host of heaven, fo y 



64 Sane, or Insane. 

they came to meet a Mighty Conqueror — so they went on 
till they came to the pearly gates, which seemed as if they 
could hardly open wide enough to receive such a host, and 
they passed under the trees which are upon the banks of the 
river, and through the streets paved with gold, and around 
the inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not 
away, reserved for the apostle ; no mortal lines could meas- 
ure its length and breadth ; and around the treasures which 
Paul had laid up in heaven, and those which the Master had 
laid up for him, and so the mighty host passed on till they 
reached the mansion which had been prepared for Paul — a 
building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in 
the heavens — but how can all these things be described? 
What manner of a mansion would that be which was built 
in a city the foundation of whose walls were laid in precious 
stones, whose gates were pearls, whose very pavement was 
gold ? All that can be said of it is that it was glorious be- 
yond description ; at the entrance he was met by the Lord 
himself, for, before he entered his everlasting habitation, he 
must be crowned, and oh, that crown ! that crown of right- 
eousness, which the Lord, the Righteous Judge, was to give 
him at that day ! What mortal can describe or can conceive 
of it — bright shafts of glory shot up from the earth, separa- 
ting and expanding as they rose higher and higher, and 
about these, stars were revolving, stars which no man could 
number — some of dazzling beauty and brilliancy ; about the 
brightest of these, other stars revolved, and from all, as 
their revolutions brought them to view, songs of praise, 
and joy, and triumph were heard — songs as if from many 
voices. This countless throng of stars every moment re- 
ceived fresh additions, and so it would continue to the end 
of time — every moment adding new lustre to that which was 
already too brilliant for mortal sight. 

The effect produced upon the audience by this spectacle 
was wondrous. The Accuser of the brethren could no 



Sane, or Insane. 65 

longer wear his polished and high-born mien; he assumed 
the hideous shape which best beseemed him, and, his face 
swollen with rage and mortification, fled the scene. The 
jury rendered a verdict in favor of the apostle without leav- 
ing their seats, and before it could be repeated, the vast 
multitude, as with cne voice, joined in a cry of exultation 
which seemed to rend the very heavens, and brought my 
dream to an end, and the first thing which met my eye on 
waking, was the reply of Paul to Festus, 

" I AM NOT MAD, MOST NOBLE FESTUS." 



I WILL NOT LET THEE GO. 

"'And the disciples said, Send her atvay,for she crieth after us.' 

I will not let Thee go, Thou help in time of need ! 

Heap ill on ill, 

I trust Thee still, 
E'en when it seems as Thou wouldst slay indeed ! 

Do as Thou wilt with me 

I yet will cling to Thee, 
Hide Thou thy face, yet, Help in time of need, 

I will not let Thee go ! 

I will not let Thee go ; should I forsake my bliss I 

No, Lord, Thou'rt mine, 

And I am Thine, 
Thee will I hold when all things else I miss. 

Though dark and sad the night, 

Joy cometh with thy light, 

Thou, my Sun ! should I forsake my bliss? 

I will not let Thee go. 

1 will not let Thee go, my God, my Life, my Lord ! 

Not Death can tear 

Me from His care, 
Who for my sake His soul in death outpoured. 

Thou diedst for love to me, 

I say, in love to Thee 
E'en when my heart shall break, my God, my Life, my Lord, 

I will not let Thee go. 

— Dessz/e?-, 1692. 



XI. 



IP** %wnt ^tipper. 



Revelation xix: 9. 

"Blessed are they which are called to the marriage supper 
of the La??ib." 

I am going to a great supper ; will you go with me ? I 
know it will be something far beyond any thing that you or 
I have ever conceived of, for it is to be given by the Great 
King himself. Besides, when invitations are given out a 
long while beforehand, some great thing is to be expected, 
but the invitations to this supper were given out not months, 
but many, many years ago, and, all this while, preparations 
have been making. 

I know it will be a great event, for the supper is to be 
given in the Palace of the Great King; not in any remote 
part of His dominion, however fair, but in the very centre ; 
in the chief palace of the chief city ; in that city which has 
no need of the light of the sun nor of that of the moon; 
where no night has ever cast a shade over the inhabitants; 
where no sickness nor sorrow nor sighing ever enter; where 
the inhabitant shall never say "I am sick." What supper 
was ever spread in such a place as this before ? 

But more than this, I know it will be a marvellous supper 
by the guests invited; marvellous as to their number — no 
man can number them ; countless throngs ; every age since 
that of the first man, every clime, every language will be 
here represented — but yet more marvellous as to their de- 
gree ; every one shall be a king, and shall wear all the in- 
signia of endless dominion. 

But do not look so curiously at me. I know what you 
want to say, it is that you do not think that 7, at least, look 



70 The Great Supper. 

much like a king. I know I do not, to you, but you are no 
judge of kings. My Father, who has invited me, knows 
what kings are ; true, I am not a king by birth, but by adop- 
tion, yet I am none the less a king, and, as such, I am in- 
vited to this supper. Besides, you have not yet seen me with 
my crown and royal robe on ; perhaps if you did you would 
think better of me : you will so see me one day and then you 
will think that I am a king indeed. That spotless robe ! no 
fuller on earth could make a robe so white ; it was washed in 
most precious blood ; all the treasures of earth could not 
buy one like it ; it was obtained for me at a cost beyond all 
expression, and the crown is a fit companion piece for it — a 
proper emblem of a dominion which shall never pass away. 

Do you ask where is this city of the Great King ? I can- 
not say exactly. , It is not very distant — my Master went 
there once, with a newly gained friend, in less than half a 
day, so it must be near by. 

As for the time of the supper I cannot tell that either. 
The invitation does not specify, but says that I must be al- 
ways ready for the summons — that it will come in an hour 
when I think not. The Master himself will come for me. 
I have often thought I heard his footfall, but I was mistaken, 
I should say I was disappointed, were it not that I am sure 
that He will come for me just at the right time. I have a 
work to do here; when that is done, He only knows, but 
He will not leave me here a moment after it is done. He 
told me once that I should have to wait but a very, very little 
while, so it cannot be long — to-night, maybe, or to-morrow, 
but soon — is not that enough to know ? 

How can I find the way thither ? As I have already said, 
the Master is to come for me, and with Him a glorious ret- 
inue. I shall not go unattended to that supper, but in state 
becoming a king, so that I shall not miss my way, and, as He 
will be with me, there will be no doubt of my acceptance. 
I have been a stranger and a pilgrim here, but when I enter 
that assembly, no one will doubt that I am a king. All 



The Great Supper. 7 1 

will be welcome and received with honor whom He intro- 
duces. 

So when you see that I have gone, do not think that the 
way is dark to me, because it looks so to you ; while you 
are mourning, perhaps, over that inanimate servant which I 
leave behind me for awhile, or perhaps before you hear that 
I have left it, I shall have sped away from all toil and sor- 
row, and shall have entered into that royal festal chamber. 

Do you ask me in what the entertainment consists? 
neither can I speak of this very precisely. There will be 
music there — rare, ravishing music — not such music as we 
make on earth in those few, fitful movements when we can 
break away from the grasp of some of our lusty foes and 
know not how soon they may be upon us again — mixed more 
or less with weariness or fear — but music, expressive of joy 
unspeakable, songs such as conquerors sing. There will 
be at least 144,000 — all masters of song — who will join in 
praise of the Giver of the Feast, and in a song of joy and 
triumph. Then we shall doubtless hear the exploits of those 
who have followed the Master through many a fearful fight; 
they will tell of their fierce conflicts, and show the trophies 
which they took from the foe, and then perhaps, ever and 
anon, we shall all break out in a grand chorus "Unto Him 
that loved us, and washed us from our sins in His own blood, 
and hath made us kings and priests unto God and the 
Father ; to Him be glory and dominion forever and ever. 
Amen," for we can sing with a good relish there ; all our con- 
flicts will be behind us ; we shall have entered upon our 
rest, to go no more out forever. There will be no weariness 
to shorten those royal revels ; no pressing cares, no urgent 
engagements, no interruptions of any kind. Our royal host 
will say, "Eat, O friends; drink, yea drink abundantly, O 
loved," and every one shall leave the table fully satisfied. 
Could you ask any more ? 

But I see you look wistfully now. It seems to you that I 
am just on the eve of departing, and you do not like the 



72 The Great Supper. 

thought of our being thus separated. It seems to you that 
you would like to sit down with those kings and revel 
in those eternal delights. You look as if the door had been 
left partly open and you had caught a glimpse of that royal 
company, or an odor of the banquet, or a sound of the ce- 
lestial harmony. Come then, for all things are now ready. 
I am authorized to invite you. " Let him that heareth, say 
* Come,' " nay, you have an invitation of your own, " Who- 
soever will, let him come," so I ask you again, 

WILL YOU GO WITH ME? 



WHOLLY RESIGNED. 

Christ leads us through no darker rooms 

Than He went through before ; 
He that into God's kingdom comes, 

Must enter by this door ; 
Come, Lord, when grace hath made me meet 

Thy blessed face to see, 
For if Thy work on earth be sweet, 

What will Thy glory be ! 

Then I shall end my sad complaints, 

And weary, sinful days ; 
And join with the triumphant saints 

That sing Jehovah's praise ; 
My knowledge of that life is small, 

The eye of faith is dim, 
But 'tis enough that Christ knows all, 

And I shall be with Him. — Ano7i. 



XII. 



MJine. 



Canticles vi: 3. 

"My beloved is mine." 

Were I traveling, foot-sore and weary, hungry and in 
rags, it would interest me little should you say, "Stop 
here a moment and see this beautiful estate ; see this 
lordly mansion ; walk through its spacious halls ; see its 
tables spread with all imaginable good cheer; notice 
the library, the conservatories, the picture galleries, the 
statuary, its beautiful parks with their grand old trees.'' 
"They are all well enough in themselves, but they are 
nothing to me," I should reply; "my wants are many and 
pressing, and between them and these things, which would 
supply so many of them, is an inseparable barrier. These 
flowing fountains tantalize me, instead of being pleasant to 
look upon; I am dying with thirst, and the gushing of 
these waters, of which no drop can reach my lips, does but 
add to my torture." 

But tell me to look no further for a supply of my wants, 
that all these things are mine, then you touch my heart, 
indeed, and fill it with joy. With what a newness are all 
these things invested; how differently do they appear from 
what they did a few moments ago ! Those waters make 
the choicest music now, for I may drink and thirst no 
more; those loaded tables reach out their hands to me, and 
I can sit down and satisfy my cravings to the utmost. But 
now, I was a beggar, near to perishing; these things have 
made me rich, indeed. 

But my joy, however supreme at this moment of transi- 
tion, is but temporary, if what is mine to-day may be 



J 6 Mine. 

yours to-morrow, or any other day ; it is mine in a very 
subordinate and restricted sense; it is not really mine after 
all; I have but a life interest in it, at longest. Nothing is 
mine in the fullest sense, which can be separated from me, 
or from which I can be separated ; it must form a part of 
me, and an inseparable part, or it is not really mine. 

Nor does it suffice me that these things, just mentioned, 
are mine forever, for all eternity, if you will, unless they 
comprise all that I ever want, or ever can want. If every 
conceivable want but one is supplied, and that want never 
caw be supplied, I am forever wretched. For instance, if 
I have this beautiful estate, this lordly mansion, with every 
desirable appointment, yet am I supremely wretched in the 
possession of them all if I have no one to enjoy them with 
me, no one to love and be loved; this is a prime necessity 
of my being; those are but accessory to my happiness. 
Take them all back, but let me go in search of some one 
who will love me, and whom I can love. 

But be it what it may that is lacking, so long as any 
thing is lacking I am wretched, and think not of what I 
have, but of what I have not. What I have loses much of 
its real value, perhaps, and, what I have not may assume an 
undue importance, but have it I must, or live forever in 
sorrow. 

But even this does not satisfy me. It is not enough that 
my every want is supplied to day. If a new want may 
come to morrow, or at any future time in all eternity, then 
I am wretched, indeed. To fill my heart with joy, mine 
must be something which not only supplies my every want 
to-day, but which will do the same to-morrow, and every 
other day, as long as my being lasts, and from which I can 
never be alienated. You may think me grasping and 
extravagant, but just that will satisfy the soul which God 
has given me, and nothing else will, and, thanks be to 
Him, He has not only given these desires, but He has 



Mine. 7 7 

given me that which will satisfy them forever, and to the 
utmost. That which I call mine meets every demand of 
my nature; it ever will meet every such demand, and 
nothing can take it from me. 

But what is mine ? And let me first answer this nega- 
tively. Not my life, my property, my husband, my wife, 
my children, my reputation. These are called mine for 
sake of convenience, but they are none of them really 
mine; they are lent to me for a season, entrusted to me as 
to a steward; they may be separated from me at any 
time; they form no integral part of me, and never can. If 
my Lord says, " I want that life which you call yours," I can 
only say, " Lord, it is thine; dispose of it as thou wilt;" and 
though self-preservation is a law of our being, and one 
which we may not recklessly disregard, yet the time may 
come when life even must be sacrificed, to obtain some 
greater good for others. 

So with my property; I cannot lay by any part of it and 
say, " Lord, thou canst not have that, it is laid away for my 
children, or my grandchildren. I mean to bequeath that 
to some great charity, when I can hold it no longer — that 
is set apart to build some great mansion for my ease." No ; 
if my Lord comes with outstretched hand and asks for 
my money, and I refuse to give Him, I rob God, and one 
of two things is sure to happen. I shall lose that money, 
or it will be a curse to me, or to my children; it will be a 
barrier between me and my God, shutting me out when I 
need access to Him, intercepting His blessings when they 
would otherwise reach me. So of those other dear ones 
already mentioned, they are mine only temporarily, only to 
use for Him whose they are. 

But now affirmatively. My Beloved is mine — Christ, my 
Lord, my Saviour, my Master; mine, in the fullest conceiv- 
able sense of the term; wholly mine, now and forever. He 
abides in me, and I abide in Him; we are, to all intents and 



78 Mine. 

purposes, one. He supplies all my present needs, and can 
and will supply all my future needs ; there never can be a 
moment, through all eternity, when any want can arise 
which He can not and will not supply. Nothing can sepa- 
rate me from Him. Not death — that brings me nearer to 
Him, ushers me into His more immediate presence, into a 
more full and complete enjoyment of Him; it separates me 
from many others whom I love, but from Him, never. Not 
life — this separates me from many to whom I would be 
near; they outgrow me or I outgrow them, or circumstances, 
which neither of us can control, come between us and 
thrust us asunder. What life knows not these separations, 
more painful than death ? but they never come between me 
and my Beloved, they never will ; not angels, nor princi- 
palities, nor powers, He is above them all, and will allow 
none of them to come between Him and the objects of His 
love ; nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, 
nor depth, nor any other created thing. He bids defiance 
to imagination and conception to bring forward any thing 
that can ever effect a separation. What other property can 
I require in that which I shall call mine ? 

And yet, while this is as much mine as if no other intelli- 
gent being existed in the universe — all mine, wholly mine, 
entirely mine — it may be yours, too, and, at the same time, 
none the less mine; He offers it to you; He stands at the 
door and knocks, that you may let him enter and give you 
just this priceless possession. Just now is the time to take 
it. Are you ready now ? 



Origin. Object, 



MANAGEMENT 

or THF. 

Chicago Foundlings' Home. 



Taken from September No. of 



FOUNDLINGS' RECORD. 



CHICAGO: 

PVtLISHKD BY THE CHICAGO FuVXJ;LlNG.S : HOM£. 

1872. 



IS PUBLISHED MONTHLY, 

And contains, notices of what is done in and for the 

HOME. 

Other benevolent Institutions, of the present or past 
time, will also be noticed, as well as whatever may tend to 
confirm the faith and quicken the love of those who are 
waiting for the Lord's coming. 

Fifty Cents per annum, payable in advance. 

Subscriptions and communications should be addressed 
to the 

EMTOK, 17 N. Peoria St., 
Chicago, III. 



.ajn" extract 

FBOM THE SEPi'EMBER NO. 

Foundlings' Record. 



As this number of the Record will fall into many new 
hands, it seems desirable to repeat what has already been 
said, regarding the origin of the Home, its object, and its 
management. It is clear enough that the information 
already made public on these points has not been very 
widely diffused, as many think that I am so rich that I need 
no aid from anybody to support a family of twenty women, 
and from thirty to fifty babies. One — probably not more 
than one could ever have been so ingenious — thought that 
I opened the Home because I was so poor and needed the 
income (?) of the Home to eke out my subsistence. Some 
think that the Home is a public institution, and supported 
by the city, by the fines of the Police Court, by the State, 
etc., etc. Some maintain that fabulous amounts are depos- 
ited with every baby, and that every one who takes a child 
away, leaves a pile of gold in its place. Now none of 
these suppositions are true, as will be seen from the follow- 
ing statement of facts ; 

ORIGIN OF THE HOME. 

Several years ago, I was called to Mr. Pinkerton's Police 
office, to see a child a few days old, who had been exposed 
the night before — and it was a bitter cold night — on one of 
our wharves, stark naked. It could not have lain there 
long, of course, but, as it was, the child's limbs were 
frozen, and, in a few days, death kindly took it where it 
was more thought of. I said to myself: " It is a shame on 
our Christianity that there is no place for such unfortunates. 



84 Chicago Foundlings' Home. 

If there were, the sin of infanticide, at least, might be 
avoided.' ' But I left the shame for others to bear. I hacj 
a large family of my own, was struggling with adversity , 
and did not see how I could assume any new burden. But 
though I plucked out the arrow and threw it at my neigh- 
bors, the barb was left behind, and ever and anon made 
known its presence. I generally quieted the pangs, after 
awhile, by abusing my neighbors' indifference, and refused 
to do what seemed more and more like a duty for me to do, 
till January, 1 87 1. At the beginning of the year, one is 
very apt to look back upon the past year, and see what he 
has done, and what left undone. In doing so, at this 
time, I could not but see how often this duty had been 
pressed upon me, and now I saw, as I did not see before, 
that it was not an impossibility to do it, for, if God bade 
me do the work, He would find the ways and means. 
About this time I mentioned, incidentally, to a patient 
whom I was visiting, of what I had been so long time 
thinking, and she replied, with great animation : " Good 
for you ! I have been thinking of the same thing, and I 
will give you $100 the very day you open the door of the 
Home." " The voice of God ! " I said to myself; and 
while I was brooding over these things, it seemed as if the 
Master himself came to me, yet hesitating, and said : " I 
died for you, can you not do this for me ? " I was brought 
to that pass where I must do His bidding, at whatever cost, 
or utterly deny and reject Him, who loved me and gave 
himself for me, and I said : " Yes, Lord, at any cost, this 
Home shall be opened/' And, on the 29th of January, it 
was opened, at 54 South Green street. 

One and another, who had heard of my project, sent me 
small sums of money, so that before the Home was actually 
opened, I had in hand $77.38; this, with the $100, given 
as promised, were the visible means with which I engaged 
to take care of all the Foundlings of Chicago. As for my 



Chicago Foundlings" Home. ^ 

own ("supposed)' great wealth, I was in debt, and my in- 
come did but little more than support my family. Having 
resolved that I would ask no one to help me in this matter, 
I had no one to look to but God ; but having satisfied 
nyself that it was his work, I had no anxiety, lest he 
should forsake it. 

But, say some, " Why not do as the benevolent societies 
of the day all do — have managers, and directors, and 
solicitors." As regards the complex organizations with 
which benevolent enterprises are carried on, I did not 
desire any such, because I felt that God had given me the 
work to do; that he would direct me, and that if I had a 
board of managers or directors, I should have to do their 
will instead of His. Lately it has seemed advisable to 
have the Home incorporated, to ensure its perpetuity. The 
corporators hold the title to the property of the Home, but 
the management of the affairs of the Home is still in my 
hands. 

As regards soliciting for funds, wherewith to carry on 
the work, it seemed better to me to trust in God, than in 
man. It was His work, and I thought it right to look to 
Him for the means. As He had bidden me do the work, 
and promised to provide for and sustain me in it, I thought 
it would dishonor Him for me to ask any one else. I have 
been told often, that I should work as well as pray; but 
begging and working never seemed to me just the same 
thing, and if any one thinks such an institution can be sus- 
tained without work, he has only to try it, to be satisfied of 
his mistake. 

Besides honoring God by looking only to Him, it was 
thought that the faith of his people would be confirmed by 
seeing an institution growing up and sustained as a work of 
faith, and these anticipations have not been disappointed. 
The good that the Home has done has not been confined 
to its inmates, as many are ready to testify. 



86 Chicago Foundlings* Home. 

If it be asked how this plan has succeeded, the reply is, 
in the main — well : the Home has had to contend with 
many hindrances, not the least of which has been my own 
faltering and imperfect faith, so that it is at present laboring 
under some embarrassments, which God, who knows the 
best time and the best manner, will surely remove when 
He sees best ; at the same time, those familiar with charita- 
ble institutions unite in saying that the progress of the 
Home has been unprecedented. 

As to the charge made here and there that I have de- 
parted from the policy at first marked out, and have solic- 
ited, directly or indirectly, I can only say that they are 
entirely untrue. I have never asked any one to do anything 
for the Home, but pray for it. The efforts which have 
been made in the shape of fairs, festivals, or entertain- 
ments, have most of them been made without my knowl- 
edge; some of them against my earnest protestations — 
none of them at my suggestion. From this policy I do not 
propose to depart. How the friends of the Home shall 
engage others to aid in its support, it is not for me to say, 
but the Home will solicit no one. 



THE OBJECT 

of the Home is, mainly, to prevent the crime of infanticide, 
and save the lives of the children to the State and to the 
world. When the Home was first opened, no children 
were given away ; but it seemed best to pursue a different 
course, and now the children are given to any one who can 
produce evidence that he can give the child a Christian 
education. More than forty children have been put into 
Christian homes, during the few months of the existence of 
the Home, and every family which has taken a child, says 
it has the prettiest, and sweetest, and loveliest child that 
ever was. It is truly gratifying to see the affection to 



Chicago Foundlings' Home. - 87 

which, and with which, these little unfortunates are re- 
ceived. 

As regards admission to the Home, no qualifications are 
necessary — no questions are asked ; babies who are put into 
the basket are taken care of, whether white or black, sick 
or well. Most of the babies, no doubt, are born out of 
wedlock, but many of them are not ; the desertion of the 
father, the death of the mother, the heavy hand of poverty, 
make it necessary to seek other protectors for some of these 
little ones. But, be the case as it may, all who come are 
welcomed and tenderly cared for. 

The last Legislature of this State passed a law which 
gives the Home a legal claim to all the children left at its 
door. The Home succeeds to all the legal rights of the 
parents. At the same time, it often happens, in course of a 
few days, that the mother finds she must have baby at any 
rate, or the father returns, or a new ray of light comes 
from somewhere ; in such cases — unless there is some good 
reason to the contrary — baby is restored to its natural 
guardians. 

Up to the present date, August 13th, two hundred and 
sixty- three infants have been taken in. The largest num- 
ber in the Home at any time, has been fifty-three ; some of 
these, however, were children of wet nurses. The house 
has already become too strait for the demands upon it, 
and as the lease of the present property expires on the first 
of May next, it has been thought desirable to secure a per- 
manent Home. The Relief Society has given $10,000 for 
this purpose. A lot has already been secured, on S. Wood 
street, and steps will be taken to erect a suitable edifice as 
soon as may be. 

GEORGE E. SHIPMAN. 



SS Chicago Foundlings' Home. 



THE FOUNDLINGS. 



BY MRS. A. C. S. 



"Inasmuch as ye have done it to one of the least of these."' 

Gather them in, the tender lambs, 
Shelter them safe in your warm fold ; 

The world is bleak, its highways rough, 
Its mountain paths are steep and bold. 

No pastures green or waters still 

These weak and helpless ones invite ; 

No spreading trees, no cooling shade, 
No mead, nor fount, is there in sight. 

But barren plains, and dreary waste, 

Hot desert sands, or lonely moor, 
Lie tracked with paths for these to tread — 
. God's little ones, His lonely poor. 

No sweet home-lights, no mother's love, 

No father's fond, protecting care, 
Greet them when first from heaven they come, 

In His own image, sinless, fair. 

For them goes up no prayer of thanks, 

O'er them no lullabys are sung, 
No cradle hymns, breathed soft and low, 

No fond love-words together strung. 

Cast forth, neglected and alone, 

Or else to unknown hands consigned, 

Shall they a tenderer pity know ? 
Is there a stranger love more kind ? 

Yes, blessings on your noble Home, 

Sweet home of hope, and peace, and rest ; 

And blest it is — God's love is there, 
He enters with each little guest. 

Jesus hath said, whose word is true, 

When earthly parents thee forsake, 
Then surely I will take thee up ; 

And ye've done this for Jesus's sake. 

List, then, while dowft the track of time, 

Sounding through all the ages dim, 
AVoice comes full, and sweet, and clear, 

Who give-bh His little ones giveth Hhn. 

— Foundlings' Record. 



77V 



